


Moral Insanity

by LeviSqueaks



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Cowboy Sam Winchester, Crack, Dean Winchester Wears Panties, Dean's POV, M/M, Sassy Peter Hale, THIS SEEMED LIKE A GOOD IDEA AT THE TIME, The Boys Film Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviSqueaks/pseuds/LeviSqueaks
Summary: When Dean got down to it, this was all Sammy's fault. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, but when Sam convinces Dean they should make money by filming porn rather than credit card scams, the brothers end up a little too close to the fire.--Why did he feel like he was walking to the gallows? He loved porn. He was a fine curator of porn. Had been since his first skin mag at 13. So why was the thought of being behind the camera so nerve wracking?Once Dean’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness beyond the wall separating them from the storefront he found the director circling Sam. Like a shark. This guy was a shark. Or maybe a vampire? He was some sort of deadly with teeth that wanted to eat his kid brother alive.What the hell had they gotten themselves in to?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 17
Kudos: 34
Collections: Dean and Sam Bingo, Sam Winchester Bingo, Wincest Reverse Bang





	Moral Insanity

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the glorious and amazing artwork by [MidnightSilver](https://midnightsilver.tumblr.com/) for the wincest reversebang! 
> 
> Also counts for the: Panty Kink square on DeanandSam bingo and the Dom!Sam square on Sam Winchester Bingo

Moral Insanity 

Sam came in from refilling their road supplies, the door opening with a heavy unsticking sound that indicated higher humidity than Dean wanted to contemplate. He looked up from the papers sprawled out in front of him on the scratched up table in their hotel room. The room had shockingly been repainted sometime in the past several months and appeared to have new carpet. It went a long way in reducing the usual chemical smells of too many solvents and dust hidden in the crevices of the room that had made up their childhood. 

“What’s the good news, Sammy?” Dean greeted as he turned back to the application in front of him, eyes skimming over the form carefully. He had won the game of ro sham bo and got to leave the errand running to Sam. Of course, Sam preferred to run off and be domestic so maybe he had thrown the game to get out of the room? Nerd… 

“I got us refilled and the laundry is done and packed up in the car. What are you doing?” Sam stalked past him with a plastic bag full of take-out containers that smelled like bacon and Dean abandoned the card applications to follow him to the beds. His groaned as a spring creaked in protest. Seemed the renovations hadn’t gotten to the most important step yet. 

“Nothin’,” he said as he accepted one of the containers and sighed in approval at the mass of scrambled eggs and bacon inside. His kid brother loved him so much. When the coffee appeared he flashed a wide grin in Sam’s direction and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to Sam’s stupid hair. He sat back and stabbed some eggs with his fork to shovel into his mouth, “just about finished with some credit card applications. I’ll send them out so we can collect the cards when we get to Bobby’s.” 

Sam sighed suddenly, his face pinching in that perfectly  _ Sam _ look of disapproval that Dean was all too intimately familiar with. He felt his lower back tense up in response to it. Dammit. Not that face. That face never meant anything good, “what?” 

Sam toyed his plastic fork in his egg-white omelette for a moment, not answering until Dean heaved a sigh, “ _ what _ , Sam?” 

Sam made a bigger bitchface in response and set his food down on the bed beside him. He glanced at Dean and then down, licking his lips before speaking. “I don’t want to do credit card scams anymore.” 

Dean waited for a further explanation and upon not getting anything else for his troubles raised an eyebrow as he set his own food aside. “Alright,” he said calmly, “what do you suggest we do instead? How are we gonna live? And don’t tell me quit hunting and get some 9 to 5 cause we’d both hate it and you know it.” 

Sam sighed again and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees as he nodded once. His hand came up to brush back through his ridiculous hair and it stirred something in Dean to watch it. Fuck. He complained about Sam’s hair all the time, but damn if he didn’t love pulling it when Sam was down on his knees for big brother. Sam shook his head at Dean. “Yeah, I know Dean. I may have suggested it a couple of years ago but I know better now.” His face grew pinched for a moment before those big hazel eyes looked up to meet Dean’s. Fuck if his little brother wasn’t the prettiest sasquatch in the continental US. “Look, I’m not saying we stop hunting, and I’m not saying that we get a 9 to 5 or something like that. But I was supposed to be a lawyer, Dean. I wanted to go to law school and do something good, you know.” 

Dean swallowed down the guilt that rose like bile in his throat and tried not to lash out defensively with the comment. He knew what Sam had given up. His kid brother had applied to college and left out when Dad had insisted that he not come back, all because he wanted to do something bigger, grander. He had always been a bleeding heart but he hadn’t wanted to kill things in order to help people. He kind of loved his dweeb of a brother for that big bleeding heart. “Yeah, I know Sammy. But who’s it really hurting?” 

Sam sighed exasperatedly, “c’mon Dean. It’s not like you’re pulling numbers out of thin air and it’s just working for you. These are peoples’ social security numbers. Sure they’ll catch them or something, they’ll be able to fight it, prove that it wasn’t them but that can take years, Dean! Years! And in that time it could really hurt people. I just… it doesn’t feel right, to mess up someone’s future because we threw down the wrong social. What if they’re someone’s grandma and suddenly she can’t pay her rent or get food? It just doesn’t sit right.” 

Dean sighed in irritation but nodded again and picked up his food. He was going to be in a better mood for this conversation if he wasn’t hungry and he could tell it meant a lot to Sam. “Alright, Sammy.” he said, ignoring the eye roll he got for using his favorite nickname. The kid was stuck with it, even if that kid was 31 and bigger than a moose. But such a cute moose… make all the boy moose… wow no what?! Fuck he knew that letting Sam pick the movie and giving in to watching Princess Diaries was gonna bite him in the ass. “Okay… so what's your idea then, genius? I'll go along with it if you even have one… I’m not an asshole, bitch. I don’t want grandma to miss out on her fishsticks anymore than you do.” 

Sam’s returning grin was wide and fond and damn if that didn’t send a surge of heat through Dean’s guts. Damn he had it bad. 

“We could make porn?”

Had it so bad… wait. “What?” Dean asked dumbly as he stared at Sam. Surely he had heard that wrong. 

Sam looked nervous and that sure as hell didn’t bode anything good for Dean’s sudden hearing loss. “Look I mean… it's legal and doesn't hurt anyone.”

Dean felt a surge of jealousy suddenly overtake him and he stabbed a sausage… Sammy had gotten him bacon  _ and _ sausage? Whatever. He knew that this had to be some kind of trap. He could feel it in his bones. First Jess, and then Meg… his stomach twisted and he clenched his hand tightly at the sudden desire to punch something. “So let me get this straight,” he managed through clenched teeth. “You want to bang some chick for money but you got moral problems with running credit card scams?” He honestly didn’t know why he was surprised. Of course Sam was gonna run for the hills to fuck some girl. 

He expected Sam to deny it, push it aside… or worse, admit it. What he got instead was a sour face and an exasperated sigh. He was kind of mad at how quickly that made him breathe a sigh of relief, “I didn't say porn with women, Dean! They have gay porn you know…” Sam looked so frustrated that it actually made Dean want to laugh. Sam squirmed on the bed and took a sip of his coffee before he muttered under his breath, “and it actually pays better.”

Dean blinked, trying to parse out what that meant, how Sam knew and it suddenly dawned on him. A laugh tumbled from his throat before he could hold it back, “you  _ researched _ this?!” God of course his little brother researched gay porn versus straight porn to find out which one was going to make them more money and get them faster results. If it wasn’t so ridiculous he would kiss him. Actually.. He looked back up, shifting forward to make good on the thought when he was confronted with Sam’s sour face. 

Snorting with laughter again, Dean shook his head and tried to figure out what their next step would be. Something else suddenly occurred to him and Dean put aside his food to stare at Sam. “Wait… okay so you want to do gay porn, which I hope means you want to do it with me. Because you know I’m the best lay you’re ever gonna get… But there’s a little problem with your plan, Genius.”

Sam looked pained as he crossed his arms and stared at Dean. Dean pushed himself up, moving the heart healthy spinach omelette to the side and plucking Sam’s coffee from his grip to set down to the floor before straddling his little brother’s lap. Sam shifted under Dean, hands coming up to grip Dean’s hips and Dean couldn’t help but roll his into Sam’s as a blush rose in Sammy’s cheeks.    
  
“Yeah? What’s that, De?” Sammy asked, and Dean couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly at the breathy quality to Sam’s tone. Ha.

“Well,” Dean managed as he looped one arm around Sam’s neck and leaned forward to press a kiss to his brother’s lips, “Don’t you think the whole brothers fucking each other stupid in public isn't a little morally ambiguous?” 

Sam’s expression curdled and he gave Dean bitchface number 873, the ‘ _ I can’t believe we’re related because you’re so fucking stupid it hurts’  _ special. Dean chuckled at the expression and leaned in to kiss Sam, grumbling when his little brother jerked backward to avoid it, “First of all, we can't procreate. Besides, we're both consenting adults, it's legal because neither of us is walking down an aisle in white, and it will make us a lot of money because of the whole incest taboo sub community in the porn blogs.” Sam looked absolutely pained to have to explain it, especially as the grin on Dean’s face just kept widening from all the points he made. “Jerk,” Sam added petulantly. 

Dean laughed brightly at Sam’s put out expression and he shook his head as he shoved Sam back so he could bend down and kiss him. A hand slid up into Sammy’s hair to keep him there and he rocked back against Sam as he pulled up and smirked down at him. “Bitch. Alright, Sammy let's go film a porno,” he agreed. He shifted to get up so they could both return to their breakfasts before another thought occurred to him. He turned to stare at Sam, a finger coming up to point in Sam’s face as he narrowed his eyes at him, “but I ain't bottoming on camera, Sam.” 

~*~*~*~

It took Sam and his super sleuthing skills exactly four days to find a studio that was advertising for amateur actors to show up and film. 1500 dollars delivered on spot for a film… 2500 if they were cool with no condoms and a creampie.    
  
“I’m gonna blow a huge load up your ass so you drip for days,” Dean crowed, earning himself bitch face number 247 ‘ _ I am going to strangle you with your own sock after I shit in it if you don’t shut up’  _ that one was rare enough that Dean was pretty sure he should watch his back and keep his mouth shut. 

“Yeah yeah, we could use the five thousand dollars… but remember that I can fuck you up once we get done filming,” Sam muttered under his breath as they pulled up outside. 

“Noted, c’mon little brother, nut up, literally, so we can get out of here.” Dean got out of the car and walked with Sam down the sidewalk and around the corner to the studio. It was a simple storefront which surprised Dean. He didn’t expect it to look so normal. 

They walked in and up to the receptionist’s desk. Dean strolled up with his typical confident swagger but felt himself slow when the woman at the desk gave them a long stare. Dean felt kind of violated with how slowly her eyes wandered. While he agreed with Sam about the money being good and legal, if this was going to be how the day went, it was going to suck. 

It did suck. 

It sucked royally. It was the suckiest suck to ever suck. The director came out from the back to greet them and once his eyes lit upon Sammy all bets were off. “Well,” the man purred, stalking out with a ridiculous white v-neck that plunged nearly down to the man’s nipples. He was jacked and set off some of the warning bells in the base of Dean’s spine. “This is a lovely surprise. Come along Darlings, I want to get a good look at you,” he bade as he turned back to disappear through the door.    
  
Dean sidled up behind Sam and narrowed his eyes at the back door, “We can walk out right now, Sam.” he muttered. 

Sam just clenched his teeth together, jaw bulging with the effort before he stalked through the door, Dean following along behind him. Why did he feel like he was walking to the gallows? He loved porn. He was a fine curator of porn. Had been since his first skin mag at 13. So why was the thought of being behind the camera so nerve wracking? 

Once Dean’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness beyond the wall separating them from the storefront he found the director circling Sam. Like a shark. This guy was a shark. Or maybe a vampire? He was some sort of deadly with teeth that wanted to eat his kid brother alive. 

What the hell had they gotten themselves in to? 

“Well, I have to say, I think you’re the prettiest morsel to show up on my doorstep,” the man said as he came back to the front and sized Sam up, “What are you, 6’3?” 

Sam shifted, a flush starting to rise in his cheeks, “Uh, 6’4 and a half.”    
  
The director’s intense blue eyes lit up as a predatory smile crossed his lips, “delicious.” He circled around before eyeing Dean up and down, drawing him up short. Aww hell. He didn’t like that look directed at Sammy but he REALLY didn’t like that hungry stare on him either. He squared his shoulders in defiance and got a smirk for his trouble, “Well then… what are you packing, Darling? I’m sure you’ve got a massive meatstick the way you’re built. Where are you from, Texas?” He asked Sam as he turned his attention back to the taller man. 

Sam seemed to startle at the question and he flushed bright red. Damn but it was a really good look on Sammy and the director seemed to agree. “Born in Kansas, raised all over,” Sam explained demurely getting a little chuckle from the man as he leaned back against one of the makeup tables along the far wall. 

The director eyed him and then Dean, “well, my very own Superman then. I’m Peter, I’ll be your director today. I got the application, not that I really paid it much mind. I want you two to kiss for me, let me get a feel for you.” His words were spoken in that tone of absolute certainty like they wouldn’t possibly refuse. 

“Uh… you just want us to kiss?” Sam asked softly. Dean honestly didn’t see a problem with it. If they were going to do this, it wasn’t like they wouldn’t be doing a hell of a lot more. He strode up to Sam then, his eyes narrowing at the smug smirk on the director’s face before he grabbed Sammy around the neck and dragged him down to kiss him. 

Sam loosed a startled “mmph!” of shock before he quickly turned to drag a hand up Dean’s back to keep him anchored as he fell into it. Sam kissed like he always did. Like he was a dying man and Dean’s lips were manna from heaven. It was honestly flattering the way his little brother would drag him close and hold on tight. Such a chick about it. 

Dean put his best moves forward to wow the prick so they could get that fat paycheck and get the hell out of town. A little nibble at Sam’s lower lip, a quick suck at his tongue that made Sam’s hands spasm along his back and reach down to grab Dean’s ass. A low laugh sounded and a mocking clap followed, “Beautiful. Alright Clark… you’re gonna go off with Betty and she’ll get you in costume. Short Stuff, you’re with me. Come along, we have a movie to produce.” 

Dean turned to give Sam a helpless look before a short woman was dragging Sam off by the hand, talking about bone structure and legs for days and something about a biteable tush. That was  _ Dean’s _ tush to bite and he spared her a glare as he was dragged away by Peter. 

Fuck man, they should have just run card scams. He let the man drag him into some giant glorified closet, clothes strewn everywhere on racks with a few benches here and there. Peter beelined straight to one rack and dragged it back as he eyed Dean up and down. “Well you’re very pretty,” he mused as he came close and gripped Dean’s chin to move his face from one side to the other. 

Dean glared at him even as he felt a flush of heat rush up his chest to settle in his cheeks. Peter just smirked at him and nodded, “you’ve got excellent bone structure. Have you ever done porn before?” 

Dean could admit he wasn’t bad looking, but he hadn’t been called pretty in years. “Uh, I’ve watched it,” he offered awkwardly and got an amused snort for his efforts. “Yes well, haven’t we all? It’s going to be an easy rodeo… you’re pretty like I said, so we won’t need to do a lot of enhancement. Shirt off for me,” the man ordered as he turned toward one of the tables. 

Dean took a slow breath in and out of his nose, trying hard to tamp down the sense of danger and dread and he stripped his shirt off. It didn’t matter, it was just an easy bit of sex, in front of a bunch of people and cameras, and then he and Sam were sitting pretty for at least a couple months. 

He was so distracted with talking himself down that he hadn’t noticed Peter approaching him again with some kind of black pencil in hand. “What’s that?” He managed to blurt it out right before Peter gripped his jaw again. 

“It’s kohl, stay still, close your eyes,” Peter demanded and then he was dragging it along the edges of Dean’s eyelids as Dean went taut, trying desperately not to move or yank away. The fuck was happening right now? How was this his life? After that freaky Friday universe bullshit Balthazar pulled on them Dean was sure he would never have to deal with being a painted whore again. But here he was, with the creepy director all radiating heat in his plunging v-neck and scary blue eyes putting the moves and the eyeliner on him. 

Peter backed off after Dean’s eyes were highlighted and he snapped. The noise startled Dean and he blinked his eyes open and met the blue eyes of the director. The man looked downright predatory with how he was letting his eyes wander down Dean’s chest and he nodded. “Yes, perfect. Just a little enhancement like I said. Now, put these on, we’ll get you out for a light test. Your partner said you two were alright with doing an incest style shoot? They do make very good money if you can refer to him as your brother.”    
  
Dean swallowed and nodded. Well it wasn’t going to be the worst thing ever, and it wasn’t like it was going to be hard. Hopefully. Well, parts of it would be hard… oh shit what if he couldn’t get hard? “Yeah it’s fine… uh I mean, we can do that,” he promised as he shifted in place. 

“Delightful. Pants off then. Actually, strip. I need to know what we’re working with and if we need to do any grooming before we get you dressed for the set.” 

Dean tried very hard not to swallow his own tongue at that casual comment. “What… I’m not a dog, why would you need to groom me?” He was so not on board with this. In fact he was about 10 seconds away from bellowing Sam’s name and just exiting stage left. Or front door left… getting the hell out of there.    
  
“Well I’m not going to cast stones, but you seem like the type of rugged repressed midwesterner who wouldn’t know how to manscape if your life depended on it. Luckily you’re not hiding a pelt here,” he said and  _ WOAH BAD TOUCH _ as his hand slowly slid down Dean’s chest to his navel. “But you’ve got a joy trail and I just want to make sure you’re not bushed out like crazy… it ruins the aesthetic if you’re hiding a forest in your pants and we can’t see your hole or your balls for the jungle… Now strip for me, we’ll see what we’re dealing with and then we’ll get you prepped and ready,” Peter explained calmly.

Dean stood frozen, his mind racing with the thoughts of get out and holy shit and oh my god that clouded everything else out. Jesus, why were his nipples so perky right now? Was he seriously chubbing up cause the guy slid his hand down his chest? He was going to hell… again. He opened his mouth to reply but his words strangled out in a high pitched squeak instead and Peter laughed in response. “You’re about to film porn, Short stuff… you’re gonna need to be a little less shy.” 

“I’m not  _ shy,”  _ Dean insisted as he undid his belt and took a breath before quickly unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them and his boxers down. “I’d just… like it if it felt like I wasn’t about to get eaten or something,” he muttered under his breath. He stepped out of his jeans, having to fumble to undo his boots first before standing up and squaring his shoulders. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been naked in front of strangers before and no one had ever given him a bad yelp rating or whatever the equivalent was. He didn’t have Cas’ hand mark any longer, so he was just… a little scarred and weathered. Still, all of his old marks had disappeared with the resurrection stint and he wasn’t as bad off as he could have been. 

Peter’s eyes were sharp and focused as they roamed over Dean’s body and yep, fuck he was totally getting hard. Well that was awkward. “Very nice, it appears you’ve taken very good care of yourself, Short Stuff,” Peter murmured as he circled. Like a freaking shark. Dean was right. It was no more fun than watching him circle Sam. Fuck Sam. 

Okay time to get this calamity on the road, “it’s Dean.” He offered to Peter as the man came back around, a hand suddenly ghosting over his hip. Aww fuck, bad touch! Nope. 

Peter met his eyes, the brilliant blue nearly glowing as he let his eyes trail down Dean one more time. “Hmm, delicious. Alright pet, here’s your costume, Tania will be in to take care of you and then bring you out to set. I’m going to go see how Clark is getting along.”

And just like that, Dean was alone. 

He breathed out a shaky sigh of relief and then looked down at the “costume” that Peter had shoved into his hands to be confronted with a pair of red lace panties and fuck all else. “Dammit Sam, I’m going to kick your ass to Miami and back after this,” he muttered bitterly as he held them up. There was no way that was going to fit. Where was the rest of it… WHY WAS THERE A HOLE IN THE FUCKING ASS? 

A short brunette woman walked in and blinked at him before smiling, “hi there. Peter sent me back to help get you ready for set. I’m Tania,” she offered as she held out a hand. As if Dean wasn’t standing buck naked in the middle of a giant closet holding panties and having a meltdown. 

“Uh, Dean,” he managed with a croak and she nodded before taking the panties out of his hand and kneeling to hold them open. Jesus Christ her face was inches away from his dick and he was about to start crying. Why was he about to start crying? This was like… a fucking fantasy right? He’d had plenty of personal time where he imagined himself with porn stars. Now Sammy was just going to be his porn star and it was fine. Fine. It was so not fine.    
  
He stepped into the panties when she wiggled them and stared up at him with a raised eyebrow and hell she did not have to be that judgemental about his little personal crisis. And god it was fucking weird to be a grown ass man with this random girl dragging panties up his legs and then adjusting them on his butt. What the hell was this. Was this a dream? A joke? Hell? This seemed like something Crowley would pull out of his smarmy ass alright. He adjusted himself in the panties before she could reach down and do it herself and she stepped back before twirling her finger. Jesus he really was a trick pony for them, wasn’t he?    
  
He sighed and turned a circle, trying not to think about how nice the soft lace felt as it slid across his skin when he turned. Damn he wanted a pair of these. Sam wouldn’t judge. Much. “Those look great on you, Peter has a good eye. Alright so we’re gonna get you prepped up so the scene doesn’t get tedious, come on, we also need to do a light check.” Her words were no nonsense as she motioned him to follow her out past the curtain and through another door. When he stepped through he had to lock his knees to keep from backpedaling through the door again. Aww shit. There were over 15 people in the studio, a few people working on a wide couch and setting up pillows under some scrawny tall kid’s direction. He was dressed in baggy cargo pants and a t-shirt with flannel but he had a headset on that Dean vaguely recognized from that case in Hollywood and there were others setting up lights and boom mics. It was just a shoot. It was porn. Dean loved porn. It was going to be totally fine. Even if he was actually kind of cold now and his nipples were perky and he was standing there in fuck all that hid him. 

“Alright, Dean, come kneel on this bench over here for me,” Tania directed in a no-nonsense tone as she motioned to a bench off to the side half behind a screen with a tall back. She was muttering something into a mic and Dean caught Flannel glancing up to stare at him before he ducked behind the screen.

Dean stared at the bench before awkwardly climbing up to kneel on it. “Okay so like is this for posture or uh JESUS!!!” He squawked as there were fingers suddenly  _ on and in his asshole _ . “WOAH Lady what the hell!?” He demanded. 

Tania snorted with laughter as she pushed two up inside of Dean and he felt his face flush mortifyingly red. “Peter said Clark was going to be topping for the first shot, so he told me to get you prepped. I told you that. We’re just getting you relaxed enough that when he does some extra prep during the scene it won’t take so long. Relax, just lay back and think of the Queen.” 

“She’s like a hundred years old!” Dean scrunched his face up and tried not to think about just how WRONG this was. Jesus Sam was never going to let him live this down. He shuddered when her fingers expertly found his prostate and he flushed when his cock jumped and thickened. It wasn’t her. It wasn’t the humiliation or the public sex or whatever. It was totally natural. God it was hot in here, why was he sweating  _ so much _ ?

The utter humiliation was quickly over (But not before she actually wiped his ass with a baby wipe to get all the lube off) and Dean found himself being dragged out into the room. Sam was there, and thank fucking god for that. He moved forward, desperate to just regroup. He finally took in Sam’s outfit and narrowed his eyes in irritation. 

What. The. Fuck?

“How come you get to dress like a cowboy and I’m in ass-less panties?” He hissed as Sam turned to look him up and down. Sam looked damn good, with the leather chaps encasing his thick thighs, a tight black jockstrap holding his package while his bare ass flexed. He still had his boots on and had some weird spiked bracelets on that just seemed to add to the aesthetic. He even had a damn cowboy hat. Fuck this wasn’t fair. 

“Uh because I’m the 100% black Angus prime rib that Peter was looking for?” Sam managed dryly as his eyes ran slowly down Dean’s body again. “You look good,” he managed huskily and Dean narrowed his eyes as he ground his teeth together. 

“ _ Focus Sam,”  _ he hissed as Peter reentered the room and Flannel moved up to say something to Peter. Ooh creepy. That hand should not be wandering down to grab Flannel’s ass like that. Nope. 

“I’m focused. We should definitely get you a pair of those when we get out of here,” Sam muttered as Flannel pulled away laughing from Peter and approached them. Upon a closer look, the kid couldn’t be anything older than 19. He had big bambi eyes and moles dotted across his cheeks and a smug grin that made Dean’s skin itch. Oh there was a reason he was close to Peter. He didn’t trust Flannel for a second. “Hey guys, I’m Stiles, I’m the producer. Let’s get you over on the couch and do a quick interview. It will help us get the lighting and sound set up then we’ll be ready to rock and roll.” 

Dean reluctantly followed when Sam stepped forward to shake Stiles’ hand. The hell was a Stiles? They followed him to the couch and took a seat on it while a couple guys got all close and personal with lights and mics. Hell Dean had not missed this. Once was bad enough.

A thought suddenly occurred to him and he smacked Sam in the chest, “Dude we can’t act!” Why hadn’t he thought about that sooner! This was going to be a fucking disaster. 

“It’s not acting, it’s fucking. We’re fine, Dean,” came the hissed reply. 

It was not gonna be fine. Dean could hardly pay attention to the few questions that Stiles asked but Sam managed to answer them well enough that Stiles seemed satisfied. How the hell did Sam convince him to do this?    
  
“Wonderful. You look positively sinful together… I love the little couple’s tattoo and everything you’ve got going on,” Peter said as he settled himself by one of the cameras and eyed them both, “Short Stuff, you’re going to bottom… If we like it enough we might set up a second scene. Clark Darling, you’re gonna make sure you put those pretty abs of yours to good work for us. We’re going to start out with Short Stuff reading a book on the couch with a blanket over him…” There was a pause where Dean tried to figure out what he had said before he cautiously shifted as if to lie down on the couch, “Yes lie down for me, Darling. That’s a good boy.” 

Stiles snickered off from the side of the room and Peter turned to give him a baleful look before refocusing on Dean. Dean was sprawled out with his head propped up on the couch arm now, a random girl darting into view to throw a soft blanket over him and hand him a paperback. Dean was pretty sure this entire thing was a setup. He opened the book and stared at it, trying not to let it look like he was freaking out quiet as much as he was. 

Sam entered after some muttered order from Peter but Dean just focused on his book like his life depended on it. Sam came close and sat down at the end of the couch and lifted one of Dean’s legs onto his lap, “Whatcha reading, Big Brother?” Sam asked, his eyes focusing on Dean. They didn’t have a script to follow so Dean tried hard not to focus on anything but Sam’s eyes as he peeked up over the book. “Just a mystery,” he shared. He hoped. He hadn’t actually read any of it. Sam shifted closer when Peter suggested it and he tugged the blanket down a bit before his eyes sparkled and he raised an eyebrow at Dean. “Are you naked under there?” 

Dean coughed and flushed, dammit this was so fucking awkward but there was that gleam in Sam’s eyes that usually spelled out good things and it was working on some of the tension but not enough that he could actually relax. “Why don’t you come find out?” His voice was deeper, challenging and Sam grinned and leaned forward, his hat tipping back as he surged closer to kiss him. 

Dean loved kissing Sammy. It was honestly one of his favorite things. So closing his eyes and letting himself focus on his brother made it much easier to tune out the people staring at them from every corner of the room. Peter quietly told Sam to tug the blanket down and he did, holding himself up with one arm as he used the other to draw it down to reveal Dean in his panties sprawled out underneath him.    
  
Dean felt himself tense up again as he was manhandled into kneeling and Sam was there with cold lube and Jesus Christ. How did he think this was a good idea? He felt Sam’s hand on his hip and his hair, leaning down over him like a damn sasquatch rug and he felt Sam positioning himself. He tried to breathe out, his stomach knotted tight as he felt that familiar feeling of Sam bracing himself before a loud slam sounded in the room behind them that froze everyone in place, “POLICE! DON’T MOVE!”    
  
Dean did not scream. He did not scream at all. That high pitched shriek had definitely come from someone else. There was sudden movement behind them and a cop was there, handcuffing Dean and Sam together as they swarmed past them to deal with the crew. Dean looked back at Sam as his younger brother quickly tucked his dick away and they nodded as they vaulted together over the back of the couch and booked it for the door on the other side of the studio. 

“Fuck! What the hell Sam?!” Dean panted as he snagged a riding crop on his way out the door.

“I don’t know, Dean!” Sam managed as they slammed out of a metal door marked exit and stumbled out into the alleyway behind the storefronts. Dean panted, turning left and right, stumbling on the rough pavement in bare feet. “This is all your fault, Sammy!” 

Sam craned his head down both ends to try and spot a path to escape, “Less talking, more running, Dean!” He managed as he motioned down the alleyway closer to where they had parked Baby. Dammit! Dean’s keys were in his pants! He was gonna have to hot wire his own car! 

“I’m not running out in the street cuffed to you in panties!” He hissed even as he followed. He looked around, hoping to find a fire escape ladder or something but beyond a message that he could get a good time if he called some rando’s phone number scrawled on the alley wall there was nothing to help them. They had only gotten about five steps towards the alleyway entrance when a police cruiser crossed the entrance. Dean felt fear grip his heart at the sight and he couldn’t breathe. His heart was hammering so hard he couldn’t hear anything but it’s staccato rhythm. “Shit! This is how I am going to jail?! With a slippery asshole and panties? I AM TOO PRETTY FOR JAIL, SAM!!!!” he barked out as they turned to run the other way. They were just passing the door they had escaped from when it slammed open and Dean realized. 

It actually  _ could _ get worse. 

He was brought up short as he and Sam froze, the cuffs yanking his arm back as he brandished the riding crop in his left hand. Donna and Jody were standing in the doorway of the studio, eyes wide as they stared at Sam and Dean. Nobody moved for several moments before Donna’s lips spread in a wide grin just as Jody’s eyes immediately rose to stare at the sky, “Hiya Dean! Sam!” 

_Fuck._

“Boys.” Jody’s greeting was the driest that Dean had ever heard. He could feel Sam slowly slide an inch or so further behind him as if to hide from site and Dean wanted to thrash him for it. “Do I want to know why Donna and I have caught you handcuffed to each other in an alleyway wearing fetish gear?” 

“Uh…” Sam managed before his voice trailed off. Donna finally broke and started snickering which only made it fucking  _ worse.  _ “Shut up, D-train!” Dean hissed as he heard Sam sigh behind him.    
  
“...Okay,” Jody said decidedly as she moved forward and reached for their hands. Dean felt a surge of relief as she undid the cuff from Sam’s wrist, thinking that somehow they were gonna get out of this with dignity at least 50% intact. That hope was ruined, however when she pushed his shoulder and dragged his other hand back to cuff, dragging the riding crop from his grip and flinging it down the alleyway. “Donna, cuff Sam, we’re gonna have to take them in.” 

“Jody, come on man… you don’t gotta do this!” Dean protested quickly as Donna shifted forward to cuff Sam who was staring at them in horror. 

Donna just laughed again, “well, you could make a run for it. That’s Main Street right there, don’tcha know? We could let you try and make a bid for freedom before we tackle you down for resisting arrest. I betcha we could get some good YouTube clips out of it,” came the cheerful suggestion. 

Jody heaved a long-suffering sigh behind Dean before she planted a hand on his back and guided him and Sam forward until they were shoved in the back of the cruiser just outside the alley’s mouth. 

Dean felt like he was going to be sick. He squirmed until he was facing forward and turned to look at Sam with wide eyes as the women climbed in the front. “Seriously… Jody, Donna… you gotta let us go.” Sam begged when the car started. 

Dean croaked out an agreement as Donna shifted to look back at them, “Ya know there is this fantastic new burger spot down on 5th street? When we get you out of booking we should go down for a bite to eat! You’d love it, they even have pickle chips!” 

“What… Donna I don’t care about pickle chips! You can’t take us into the station while we’re dressed like this! We can’t go to jail!” Dean stammered. “Come on Jody,” he begged, “I know you’re doing your job but seriously. You gotta let us go! You can’t tell anyone about this!” 

Jody rolled her eyes and pulled the cruiser up next to Baby, getting out and opening the back door so she could get at Dean’s cuffs. “Well, we’ll just see about that,” she mused as she dragged Dean out of the back seat and pushed his wallet and keys into his chest. 

Dean fumbled and grabbed them as he stared wide-eyed at her. “You’ll see? You’ll  _ see? Jody seriously! You can’t tell anyone about this!”  _ he shouted as Donna dragged Sam out and uncuffed him. 

Jody pushed him toward Baby and looked down at the backseat of her cruiser before sighing, “We’ll see, Dean. I guess it just depends on how long it takes me to get the lube and ass prints out of the leather.” With that, Donna gave them a cheerful wave and they got back into the cruiser and drove away.    
Dean stared after the retreating cruiser, dread filling his stomach as he watched the retreating headlights. "Well," Sam managed beside him, startling Dean. “At least you get to keep the panties?" 

"Shut up, Sam!"


End file.
